


postcard

by doctormissy



Series: 9 Days Christmas Writing Challenge [28]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 9 Days Christmas Writing Challenge, Cats, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holidays, James is on a mission, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Postcards, Presents, TV series references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 06:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17136422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: He was alone on Christmas.Well, not alone. There were always his cats, the faithful companions who stuck round as long as they were being fed and cuddled enough, which they always were, thank you very much.It was just that James wasn’t there.





	postcard

He was alone on Christmas.

Well, not alone. There were always his cats, the faithful companions who stuck round as long as they were being fed and cuddled enough, which they always were, thank you very much.

Tesla pawed at his socked foot, sprawled out on the comfy sofa. Turing was exploring the plant in the corner for the fiftieth time.

It was just that James wasn’t there.

Q was wrapped in one of his worn Royal Navy T-shirts that smelt of his cologne—yes, wrapped, it was three sizes bigger than him, and so perfect. His half-emptied bottle of scotch stood on the kitchen counter. He’d left two presents for Q under the tree before he got on a plane to Bucharest.

But he wasn’t there.

He sent him a bloody postcard with cheery reindeer on a red background. With an actual drop of dried blood. So much for Christmas spirit.

Q chuckled into the mobile. ‘Really, James, a postcard?’

‘I told you I’d send you one,’ James said, on a bed in a Romanian hotel.

Tesla bit his thumb now. Q winced. ‘Three years ago, as I seem to recall.’ In his left hand, he twisted the card and then laid it on the coffee table, undoubtedly to be shred to pieces by one of his boys later. ‘I miss you, you know.’

‘Oh, I certainly hope so,’ James’ voice was suave and smooth, as if Q never witnessed his morning crankiness or learnt his feet were quite ticklish. ‘It’s been three days.’

Q heard the rustle of satin sheets—and wished he were there next to him. ‘You’re saying I can’t live three days without thinking of you?’

‘I don’t know, can you?’ he asked suggestively.

‘Hmm, let me think,’ he said and stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. The movement sent Tesla scurrying off to the kitchen. ‘I absolutely can if you keep disobeying orders. You’ve worked at Six long enough to know that.’

‘You wound me, my darling.’ Q didn’t need a visual to see him shaking his head.

He inhaled, exhaled, blinked. ‘Hah. You sent me a bloody postcard.’

James took a few seconds to answer. Q actually loved this, the late night conversations from different countries. ‘I’ll be back in two days and then I’ll give you the present you deserve, Q,’ another pause, ‘you haven’t opened those boxes yet, have you?’

Q glanced at the two neatly wrapped boxes under the tree. One was in a plain red paper, the other sported a blue one with happy snowmen. ‘No, not yet. Why?’

He had a few ideas involving that _present he deserved_.

‘You’ll see. The postcard must be enough for now,’ he teased again. ‘Merry Christmas, Q.’

‘Merry Christmas, arse,’ he laughed into the mobile. Tesla came back and curled on the armrest, knowing better than to touch Q’s feet within the next few minutes. ‘I’m gonna go watch _Swan Lake_ now.’ He switched channels to BBC Four.

‘Bitter about no _Doctor Who_ , are we?’ James laughed too. He knew him all too well.

Q growled. ‘Obviously. And no New Year’s Day special is going to make up for it.’ The ballet was boring. He switched again. _Dad’s Army_. Again. _Michael McIntyre’s Big Show_. Again. _Emmerdale_. Again. _Elf_. He was just going to watch the news anyway, it seemed. ‘There’s nothing good on telly, I swear.’

‘We can watch reruns when I come back,’ James suggested.

‘No. Nothing makes up for it. It’s Christmas and there’s no _Doctor Who_.’

‘Rest in peace.’

‘Bye, James.’ Q grabbed a biscuit from the table and chewed. Moneypenny made them and brought him an entire box, because everyone continued to think he didn’t eat enough. Which, to be fair, he often didn’t, but still, he could do with fewer biscuits.

‘Sorry…’ There was another rustle of sheets. ‘Can we just keep talking? I’m a bit bored here.’

Mouth full of gingerbread, he answered, ‘No, I’m ringing off right now.’

‘Hilarious.’ No laugh. And then, ‘I miss you too. I’d rather spend the holidays with you and the cats, but you know M, he loves doing this to us.’

‘Yes, let’s just blame M. The award for cockblocker of the year definitely goes to him.’

‘You should make that award and give it to him as a present,’ James said. He got up and walked, probably to the window.

‘I’ll think about it,’ Q laughed and ate another biscuit. Would Q be mad enough to fire him if he actually followed through with it, or would he laugh and keep it as a joke? Who knew with him. ‘What’s the weather like?’

‘Have we really become the people who talk about the weather, Q?’ James asked. Q knew he was thinking about it anyway. ‘That makes me feel really old.’

‘You aren’t exactly the youngest, James.’ Turing wandered to the sofa. He sniffed at the biscuits and turned away in disgust. Tesla observed him. ‘And I really want to know. Is it snowing?’

‘No, the skies are clear. I think. It’s dark outside, you know. But it’s cold.’

‘Thank you. It wasn’t that hard, now was it?’

‘No, but it’s not what I want to be saying in your ear on Christmas Day.’

‘Charmer,’ Q glanced at the presents again. ‘What _do_ you want to be saying in my ear on Christmas Day?’

‘Well, for starters…’

**Author's Note:**

> yes, there's definitely a sex thing in one of those boxes


End file.
